


Phantasmagoria

by dreaminginside



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Apologies, Growing Up, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 21:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5886427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminginside/pseuds/dreaminginside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Killua is young when he learns how fragile humanity is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phantasmagoria

**Author's Note:**

> How long will I write on this same theme? Probably forever since I'm never going to get over it togashi snaked me forever

_kintsukuroi_ (n.): "to repair with gold"; the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.

— 

Killua is young when he learns how fragile humanity is.

He can spot the cracks in even the most powerful men’s facades just moments before he takes their life, half a second to snap their neck, seven tenths to steal their heart from their chest. Humanity is too easily breakable for people like him, physical lives tethered on thin strings all around him.

Not that many of those he killed were deserving of any more, because the mind is just as easily breakable as the body, and Killua has watched the light of manic fear leave too many eyes not to know it. Countless souls will break down at the merest hint of torture, and Killua considers it almost a skill to calculate where the cracks lie, observing the jagged lines of life and fragility in those he meets with largely uncaring interest.

When he meets Gon, it’s the first time in years he’s felt genuine interest in a person.

He’s the first boy he’s met his age, his first friend, his first everything, and Killua knows from the moment they meet that Gon is perhaps the largest bundle of contradictions he could ever encounter, no visible cracks in his entire being. In a way, he’s everything Killua had needed at that time, and he wonders if there is really such a thing as magnetic fate that could bring them together as it did.

For a time, he’s the happiest he’s been in his entire life.

Gon smiles at Killua with nothing but raw honesty in his eyes, and Killua allows himself to be drawn in closer to the flame, forgoing thoughts of human fragility and how easily things are broken. Because Gon is Gon, and if there is one thing Killua can manage to trust in, it’s the strength of Gon’s honesty. He doesn’t think about it when pondering Gon’s brightness, in the way he holds him tight after Kite comes back to them as little more than a broken doll, in the way he tries to trick himself that he isn’t afraid when Gon’s eyes gloss over to a person he doesn’t know.

In his hindsight, he wishes he’d remembered his experience with how breakable all humans are much, much earlier. 

He’s so absorbed in it all, in keeping his focus of protecting Gon and his ideal bright slate, he doesn’t notice his own spider web of cracks creeping in from the edges. Tears fall from his eyes when he rips his brother’s needle from his head, and he thinks he should have known earlier the weakness that caring for, _loving_ , another person so much would put in his foundation. He notices everything too late, and it comes together all at the final hour, racing through the palace and realizing that it’s fallen upon him to keep them both together long enough to survive all of this.

He tries to contain himself while keeping Gon tethered together, even though he knows his reasoning will be in vain in front of Gon’s view of the world. Because in a world where there can only be black and white in how things affect the other boy, all these shades of gray have shot irreparable wounds into him, and Killua slowly realizes he is trying to patch up a mortal wound with one strip of gauze.

“ _You have it easy, Killua,_ ” Gon’s voice echoes in his ears sometimes even years later, in the middle of the night when he thinks he’s firmly cemented the lost pieces of himself back together. “ _Since it doesn’t concern you._ ”

Later on, Killua understands, he knows why Gon said what he did and knows that he was in no kind of state to be monitoring what exact effect his words would have. But at the time, it cuts him to the quick, and Killua wants to yell and scream and lose himself to the hurt in his chest, but even then he knows that someone has to be the one holding it all together.

Too late Killua realizes that in his all encompassing concern for Gon, in his frantic mission of keeping the pieces of that inconceivable brightness together, he’s the one that has shattered.

Killua has broken many men, grown and strong men, and endured countless injury and torture, but he doesn’t think he’s ever quite felt pain quite like that before. 

His lessons on fragility and breakable things come back to haunt him as he holds Gon’s broken body in his arms, going nearly dizzy with the amount of effort it takes

Standing in front of Gon’s hospital room he could almost laugh, toxic aura curling around him and making him choke through his tears because it isn’t fair, they’re both supposed to be unbreakable, and he wonders if his brother would get some sick satisfaction in knowing just how deeply Killua has fallen. 

It’s not even him that manages to pull the pieces of Gon back together, he has Alluka and Nanika to thank for it, and he knows even when he sees him that no amount of nen or supernatural means will be able to truly glue the bits and pieces of Gon’s psyche back together.

Later he lets Gon pull him aside before they separate, and he knows there’s a note of strange finality in it, that this will be something to define the years to come. Gon’s hands are warm on his, and it drowns out the thoughts of shattered bone when Killua’s eyes flicker to his now healthy arm.

“I’m sorry,” Gon says, squeezing Killua's hands tightly. Gon would swallow him whole if Killua would let him, and for a moment it’s almost too easy to say _yes_ like how he wants to, but he gathers up all his resolution to shake his head softly.

“So am I, because I can accept it,” He starts slowly, shaking his head harder when Gon goes to open his mouth, because this time Killua has to talk. Words spill over themselves, but Killua holds them back because he knows whatever he says, Gon will take to heart. “But I can’t forgive you. Not yet. I can’t help you this time.”

There’s a long beat of silence between them, and Killua works to collect the broken pieces of himself, letting his hands fall slack in Gon’s. Gon still holds them softly, like he’s come to an awareness of how broken Killua is, and Killua hopes that his palms aren’t sweating to give away his true state of turbulence.

“I know, I understand,” Gon offers a shaky smile, and Killua wonders if he truly does. He hopes so, because Killua knows that it’s his own fault as well for holding Gon to such a standard of ideals of everything he wanted for himself, and if they both don’t take something from this then they’ll never be able to repair anything between them. Killua wants to, wants a confirmation so badly that one day everything will be alright between them and that all this will make them stronger, but doesn’t say it. Instead he meets Gon’s eyes and allows himself the weakness of one last squeeze of Gon’s hands before the moment is over and he takes them back to Alluka.

Gon apologizes to him again in front of Alluka, voice firmer, and Killua allows himself a real smile, holding his sister’s hand tightly and not looking back as they put centimeters and inches and miles between them.

…

Years later, Killua stands in a similar position, distance that feels like chasms between them as he stands mere feet away from Gon.

“Hey,” He murmurs, and he doesn’t think any amount of their hesitantly begun e-mails and calls could have prepared him for seeing Gon again. He has a few inches of height on him now, scars that Killua doesn’t know littering his arms, and Killua notes with relief that his eyes are so much clearer than the last time they met. “It’s been awhile.”

“I know,” Gon’s voice is filled with regret, and Killua almost feels a ghost of the frustration he used to feel when they were together, when he could still hit Gon over the head without a second thought, hear his bright laugh in return. Killua isn’t sure if he has that privilege anymore, but he doesn’t feel the old scorching pain in his chest to think about it, and thinks that maybe time does heal all wounds. “Killua, I’m sorry. For everything.”

They never talked about it again after the day they separated, a kind of unspoken agreement between them even when they started to speak again, slowly and hesitantly like their taped together pieces could break again at any moment. Killua isn’t sure he’d ever have replied to Gon’s short texts if it hadn’t been for Alluka finding the near full inbox of texts in his phone, chiding him for ranting about Gon’s inability to face his problems when _her stupid brother can’t even write a text back on his own_. The memory smiles, and he thinks that letting Gon and Alluka spend too much time together will likely be dangerous to his well being.

Lately, he thinks of the future more than the past, and he thinks that he’s spent enough of his life in the darkness that he deserves to dream of a bright future.

Gon’s eyes are earnest while he waits on Killua’s response, and it reminds Killua so much of before they were the broken pieces of children thrust into the world of adults all too soon. It prompts him to close the distance between them until their knees are nearly touching, reaching for Gon’s hands with a slowness that leaves him room to pull away, holding them like illusions that could disappear at any moment.

“I believe you,” He says simply, not raising his voice for risk of testing the fragile humanity between them. The Gon he knew was selfish and stubborn to a fault, naïve to all that didn’t fall inside his sphere of moral understanding, but he still remains Killua’s shining light. Killua knows that people grow and change, and he has fixed himself as best he can, he can only trust the Gon he knew to have done the same. “I forgive you.”

Gon seems to sag for a moment, head falling to rest on Killua’s shoulder, and Killua bemoans growth spurts momentarily, sitting content in their silence before closing his eyes and sighing.

“What, did you think I would be so cruel to make you come here and then deny you?” Killua teases, letting Gon squeeze his hands with what feels like inhuman strength, letting them go numb as he tries to disguise the anxiety in his voice. “Aren’t you going to forgive me too?”

“You never needed it,” Gon lets out a long breath before grinning against Killua’s neck, pulling back and shaking Killua’s hands around in a way that tells Killua more than words ever could. That this larger version of Gon is still too excitable, too fickle, too willing to let himself be sacrificed as long as it means that Killua isn’t. It makes Killua want to hit him again, and he thinks that this is what going home must feel like. 

“You’re an idiot,” Killua whispers, and he hopes Gon knows how much he wants to say but can’t. That he’s sorry for all the time they wasted feeling sorry for themselves, that he couldn’t fix him, couldn’t save them both, that he’s been in love with him since before he could even define the word. But he doesn’t say any of it, and he knows that Alluka would hit him if she knew, would say he should be like one of the heroes of those romance novels she likes reading, but he can’t think of anything in the face of his humanity laid out before him.

“I know,” Gon smiles softly, and Killua feels the old broken pieces of himself fade away, knowing they aren’t needed now that he’s stronger than he used to be, strong enough to be here with Gon on his own and not need to rely on Gon’s light to survive. He drops his hands from Gon’s in favor of framing Gon’s face, thumbs resting high on his cheekbones. “But you are too, Killua.”

“Shut up,” Killua huffs, flicking Gon’s nose once before leaning in on a whim to press a soft kiss to each of Gon’s cheeks, leaning their foreheads together and letting all of that darkness go, blocking it out in favor of the now. When Gon opens his eyes and lets his mouth press against the corner of Killua’s lips in return, Killua dares to believe in the tangled mess of red strings tying them together.

Killua relaxes, and lets himself feel human.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! All of anything is appreciated!


End file.
